An M/M and M/F Contemporary Romance Series. Written from the perspectives of both male and female, gay and straight characters.
80% M/M, 20% M/F
For brothers Brent and Tad, opening up their gym, Sculpt, is a dream come true. Struggling to gain recognition in the fitness world, they enlist the help of a well-known advertising agency to help market their full service fitness center. When Brent meets his new account manager, he feels an automatic attraction to Luke. However, another employee in the gym has his eyes set on Brent and will stop at nothing to keep the boss to himself.
Tad is married to his high school sweetheart. With a wife and two adorable children, his life couldn’t get any better. Then his happily ever after is cut short by a tragic accident. Tad gives up on love, expecting to never be happy again, until one of his employees puts her life on the line to protect his business.
The Promises Series is an M/M and M/F romantic collaboration by authors Aria Grace and Kyan Christopher.

As soon as our orders are placed at Blue Wok, Brent leans back in his chair and heaves out a deep breath.

“So do you want to talk about it?” I ask again, taking a sip of my Coke.

“No.” He laughs quietly. “Actually, I don't. I'm done talking about it. Thinking about it. I just need to get away from it for a little while. Tell me about yourself. How's work on our campaign coming?”

Brent visibly perks up at the topic.

“Actually,” I say, getting a little excited myself, “it's going really well. I have some mock-ups for you guys to approve for the ad I want to run. And we have two tentative dates in mind for the cross promotion with Tangled down the street.”

“Really? The pretzel place? That's awesome,” he says, smiling for the first time that I've seen since his sister-in-law's death. “I can't wait to check it out. I know the timing really sucks and I'm sorry about that. Obviously, we had no idea Tad and I would both be so disconnected from work for a little while when we hired your agency.”

“No. No, not at all,” I say, waving my hands in front of me. “You hired me to take care of this stuff for you. So really, whether you are working or on vacation, this stuff will happen. The campaigns will run, business will boom, and all will be great.”

“So what else is going on with you? Do you live alone? Have a dog? Play sports?” Brent is clearly grasping at topics of conversation.

“Yes. No. Not really,” I say.

Brent furrows his eyebrows. “Wait. Now I don't even remember what I asked or in what order.”

“Yes, I live alone. I've got an apartment nearby. No, I don't have a dog or any pets. I like dogs, and maybe someday, but my apartment is too small for a big dog, and I wouldn't want a little yapping thing. And what was the last question?” Now I can’t remember what he asked.

Brent makes a face and scratches his nose in an adorable way. “Sports. Sports. I asked about sports.”

“Oh, right. Not really. I used to play hockey when—”

Brent raises an eyebrow. “Street or ice?”

“Ice through high school. Street in college.”

“Cool.”

“Yeah. Some friends and I play pickup now and then, but it's actually been a while. I’m not great at it but I have fun. Once the weather clears up, they might drag me out there again.”

“That's awesome.”

“What about you?” I ask, twisting the straw wrapper into a tight rope to keep my fingers busy.

Brent shrugs. “Not much anymore either. I used to play softball with some buddies, and baseball when I was younger, but since we opened the gym, I mostly just work out there.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” I say under my breath before I catch myself.

Brent smirks. “Can you?”

Shit, now he thinks I’m flirting. That's not a bad thing, but he is still my client, and he's definitely too vulnerable right now for me to take advantage of him.

“Well,” I choke out, “it's obvious you and your brother both spend a lot of time testing out the equipment in your gym.”

Brent squints a little as he seems to study me. “Is there anybody special in your life?” he asks, cutting right to the chase. “Maybe a girlfriend waiting for a ring?”

Now he’s playing with me. He knows damn well there’s no girlfriend, unless he has the worst gaydar known to man. “Nope, no girlfriend. Not since fourth grade.”

“Boyfriend?” Brent asks, more serious now.

I look right at him. “Nah, nobody serious at the moment. What about you?”

Brent shakes his head without breaking his stare. “No, my life's too crazy for a boyfriend.” He winks. “But I definitely like friends who are boys.”

“Hey, Claire. How are things today?” I walk behind the reception desk and glance at the computer screen over her short, pixie-style black hair. The open calendar program reveals blue highlights for appointments that are booked this week.

“Good. You have a client coming at ten, so you have about thirty minutes to shower and change.”

Lifting my arms one at a time, I smell my armpits. “I don’t stink that bad.”

She turns around and looks at me over her black-rimmed frames. Her gaze takes on a quizzical look. “Ugh. How is it again that you’re gay? Because you seem to be very much the straight man when it comes to body odor.”

“Geez, Claire.” I laugh as the corners of her mouth tilt upward. “Sorry to disappoint your stereotyped expectations for straight and gay men.”

“That’s why I stick to women. Less fuss and confusion.”

“Oh, is that why?” I smirk.

“That and the tits and the…” The door chime sounds, cutting her off. “Hi, welcome to Sculpt. Can I help you?”

Leaving her to our new customer, I head through the gym to the men’s locker room. All the employees have large lockers here for extra clothes we need throughout the day. Walking toward the showers, I grab a clean towel from the stack we maintain for guests.

I pull the glass door open, and light puffs of steam greet me as I step through the entrance. The outer area of the tiled room consists of benches running along the frame of the fourteen-by-twelve room. An opening at the back leads to the showers, where the sound of water cascading echoes off the walls. Stripping out of my clothes, I lay them on one of the benches, taking only my towel with me.

Making my way down the center aisle of shower stalls, the back left stall is the only one in use. Three stalls are lined up on each side of the aisle. A rod with a curtain on each allows for privacy, but I notice the stall in use has only half the curtain pulled.

Choosing the back right shower, I hang my towel on the hook outside the stall and pull my curtain, leaving enough room for me to glance over to the other side. The water warms quickly and I step under the stream, allowing the pelting flow to relax my muscles after Grant’s strenuous workout.

I sneak a peek from around my curtain, looking into the shower across the way. A strong thigh and one side of a round, bubble butt come into view and my dick begins to grow. I pump some of the body wash from the dispenser and begin to lather myself up, giving extra care to my stiffened member. My hand glides up and down as I continue to stare at the muscular body in the other stall.

The body begins to turn, so I lean back into the stream of water, not wanting to be caught peeping. I chance a look again and my eyes grow wide. The guy’s hand is moving up and down. Damn, he’s jacking off too. Tingling sensations cover my body as I watch this hunk across from me.

The man’s left hand braces above his head on the shower wall. Fuck. I wish I could see his face and chest, but he hasn’t leaned over far enough for me to see more than his hands. My hand strokes faster as I hear the guy let out a small moan. As I watch his hand clench against the wall, he groans and I know he’s reached his climax. The excitement from glimpses of him pleasuring himself sends me over the edge as well. I lean back into the flow of water, letting it coat me as the trembling sensations within me subside.

Born and raised in beautiful California, Aria enjoys the year round sunshine and laid back environment of the west coast. Her career started out in tech writing and web development and has evolved into all things marketing with fingers in everything related to book publishing. She lives with her husband and two children and more pets than she can keep track of. Despite her crazy schedule, she loves the time she carves out to read and write. Whether it's on the beach or on the couch at 2am, she is a woman obsessed!She loves to hear from readers so please feel free to drop her a note or visit her at www.ariagracebooks.com.If you'd like to know when Aria's next book is coming out or where she'll be signing, join her mailing list at: http://bit.ly/AriaGraceFanList

Kyan Christopher was born and raised in Louisiana. A southern boy who loves the city, he is a romantic at heart. Never thinking he would become an author, a fan fiction piece he wrote inspired a series that launched his desire to weave tales of passion and romance. Kyan is supported by his loving partner of 15 years. They live in the South with their three four-legged kids.

Friday, January 29, 2016

Neglected, abandoned by a heroin-addicted mother, and placed in foster care at ten, Enzo Jordan has learned one thing…love hurts. At thirty-five, he has a successful tattoo shop and his choice of women. The one-night stands are getting old, and the love he holds for his best friend, Aibhlinn is impossible to hide. When the attraction between them reaches a boiling point, he's forced to choose between facing his fears and walking away.

Aibhlinn Leahy has been in love with her best friend for years. The Irish-born comic book artist has poured time, energy, and love into the wounded man. His choice to walk away breaks her heart but frees her to explore a new future.

Life is a cruel and amazing thing. An abandoned baby brings the two back together, and they’re forced to examine the love that has long existed between them. This is a story of pain, scars, and fear. We all have demons to battle. The real decision is who's in control…us or them?

Aibhlinn nodded, and they walked outside to the back. Enzo softly closed the door behind them and she spun, instantly on the attack.

“That’s how you see us? That’s our end game? You walking away? I’m so easy to leave behind?”

“No,” he held out his hands, palms up. “That’s not what the painting says.”

“It’s never been a question of love. God, Aibhlinn you must know I’m in love with you.”

His words stole the breath from her lungs. She blinked and swayed.

“Whoa,” he wrapped his arms around her, and she leaned against his chest.

“What did you just say?” She croaked.

“I love you. I’m in love with you. I have been for years. I tried so hard to keep it to myself, so I didn’t ruin what we have.”

She couldn’t stop the tears that fell from her eyes. “Why wouldn’t’ you say something before now?”

“Because it doesn’t matter, Aibhlinn,” he whispered.

“What?” She pulled away. “It’s everything.”

“No.” He ran his fingers through her hair, bringing his fingers to her scalp where he began a massage. She shivered. “I wish it did. You’re beautiful. I always wanted to touch you like this.”

“Then touch me,” She whispered.

“Just this once, Aib,” he whispered moving in to brush her lips with his. Tendrils of pleasure burst through her body like fireworks. They both moaned as their mouths were fused. They’d given in to hunger long denied. Teeth knocked, tongues clashed. She savored every moment. He cupped her ass, and she moaned, pressing closer against him. “So sweet,” he whispered.

She slow-blinked as the world changed its perspective. He lifted her up and out of instinct, she wrapped her limbs around him. He pressed her against the wall, and they continued to eat at each other’s mouths. It was heaven. Everything she’d dreamed of and more. The boy who’d kissed her had become a man and skilled with his tongue. He rolled his hips, and she whimpered. He’s good with other things too. The friction of his jeans against her soaked underwear had her moving with him. Heat flooded her face and collar bones. Her head spun.

“That’s it let it go for me, baby,” he whispered. His words thrust her over the edge, she arched her back and cried out. He swallowed her noises, keeping the passionate exchange a secret between them. Shaking she clung to him as he eased her legs to the ground and buried his face into her neck. “Never doubt I love you, Aibhlinn. I just don’t know how to be in a relationship. They scare the hell out of me. What we have is the closest I’ve ever come to commitment. The thought of fucking up and breaking your heart has haunted me for years.” He placed a kiss to her temple.

“Then let me teach you. We’ve helped each other through everything. Why is this any different?”

“I’ve battled this demon for so long its hooks are embedded into my soul. Not even you can loose those chains.”

“Don’t you see we’re doing everything but having sex and putting a title to us? I love you Enzo. I’d do anything for you. Hell, I have been your ride or die so long I got a list of infractions to prove it. I want to help you. I know we could be good together. I want it so bad I can fucking taste it. But I can’t continue with the dysfunction. If we can’t go all in we, need to place boundaries and keep to them, ‘cause this thing between us is killing me, and making it damn hard to find anyone else.”

He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against hers. Deja vu struck. Her heart broke. It was so much worse knowing he felt the same why.

“You son of a bitch. Why even tell me how you felt if you knew you were going to do this?”

“What do you want me to do, Aib,” he cried out brokenly.

“Stop fighting it,” she said through her gritted teeth. Her hand reached down to cup the bulge in his pants. “Feel with me. Don’t manipulate my body, open up your soul and let me in. I’m already there Enzo. I’m under your skin. I’m in your brain. I know you better than you know yourself.”

His muscles tensed, and his breathing increased. “For once, trust in us.”

“I-

She massaged him, and he rocked into her hands. “Let me take the wheel.” Leaning in she nipped at his neck, emboldened by the cover of darkness and privacy of the small parking lot. His body shook. She slipped her hand into his pants, and they both moaned. He was hot, thick, and long in her hands. She gripped him tightly and pumped.

“Aibhlinn.”

“You gave this to me, now. I’m returning the favor. Tonight after the show where they may. But right now is our time.” She captured his lips, taking what she wanted for so long. He tasted crisp and clean like mint. His lips were soft and pliable. His moaned vibrated through her body. He sucked her tongue, and she whimpered, picking up speed as she brought him over. She swallowed his cries as he spilled onto her hand. The hot liquid felt like a cleansing rain. She removed her hand and brought it to her lips lapping off his salty flavor.

“Jesus, baby. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve dreamed of you like this,” he panted.

She was afraid to hope for more, but for now,, at least, she knew the taste and feel of him. The way his eyes turned into a stormy gray when he came. She leaned in, nipped his bottom lip hard and drug her tongue across it to soothe the abused area. “Hope you don’t mind going commando.”

“Worth it,” he croaked. His eyes grew serious. “Aibhlinn.”

Shyla Colt grew up in Cincinnati, Ohio, but has lived a variety of different places thanks to her wanderlust, interesting careers, and marriage to a United States Marine. She's always loved books and wrote her very first novel at the age of fifteen. She keeps a copy of her first submission letter on her desk for inspiration.
After a lifetime of traveling, she settled down and knew her time had come to write. Diving into her new career like she does everything else, with enthusiasm, research and a lot of prayers, she had her first book published in June of 2011. As a full-time writer, stay at home mother, and wife, there's never a dull moment in her household.
She weaves her tales in spare moments and the evenings with a cup of coffee or tea at her side and the characters in her head for company. A self-professed rebel with a pen. Her goal is to diversify romance as she continues to genre hop, and offer up strong female characters.